Matrix  Crossing Forbidding Lines
by Silent-assasin-of-Eternity
Summary: a story that i had made up from a dream i had when i was about 12


**Chapter 1: the boy and the castle**

The wind howled as the crows screamed and flew in the air, the castle became dark and bold as the amount of lightening increased, a fair maiden treaded across the muddy path carry two buckets of water hung on a stick which lay upon her shoulders. She reached the castles front entrance, a large wooden door that was also used as a bridge to cross the moat which lay between her and the castle.

"What am I doing here, I should have listened to mum, and I knew I had to go to school in the morning but no, I shouldn't have read that book for so long. Wait a minute, this must be a dream, and so I must be asleep." the maiden thought as she entered the castles dark ruins. The corridor of the castle was dark and long, it had many pillars on each side which were coated with grey paint and cobwebs. The maiden continued down the corridor until she reached and large room, she hid behind one of the pillars as she slowly turned her head to see what was in the room.

The room was vastly large, and contained many of the kingdoms strongest and bravest knights each with a emblem on their stained, battered shields and a spear in hand as each one stood parallel to each other on a long blood red carpet. The maiden averted her eyes from the knights a looked more further ahead to where a golden throne stood, the gold looked cold and dark as if it had come from the bottom of a wine cellar, dust and cobwebs laid across the vast headpiece of the throne and carried on along the short blackened arm rests to where a foot leaned against it, the maidens eyes drifted from the foot and along to a leg, to a body and then to a face. The face was relaxed as if it had slept and never had been awakened, it looked so peaceful, just like a sleeping beauty, but in fact it was actually the face of a sleeping male, his hair was short and glowed a dark ginger, his eye colour unknown as they were closed, he was slim as a match and laid on the throne as if he was thrown onto it like a rag doll. He looked the same age as the maiden, either a year younger or older than her, the maiden averted he eyes towards a sudden movement, another man, a tall more bulkier man, who wore mostly black, his hair was black, his eyes were black, blacker and more dead looking than coal. A gloomy hora floated around him making the air cold and the atmosphere tense as his cloak, which strode behind him was made of raven feathers, darker than night itself. Near to him was an old man, his wrinkles covered most of the features of his face as he held a quilled pen and scribble words onto to a long ancient looking scroll.

"Where is the general?" The bulkier man questioned.

"Sir Morden the general is off on the errand you had sent him upon, he may be back by dawn." One of the knights had stepped forward with hesitance.

"Very well, when he gets back tell him I want 50 new troops from his village"

"Excuse my interruption your Excellency but the general has told me to report to you that he is resigning from the post of the general and that after he has he will not allow you to take anymore recruits from his village." The knight swallowed hard as Morden's eyes began to glow and dark blood red. Morden grabbed the knight by his throat a lifted him off the ground, the knights eyes grew large as his air supply decreased and as he went a pale blue.

"Very well, but do tell my general that if he does not come by dawn tomorrow and reinstate his position of general, his village will be looted and burned, and all traces of his village will never have existed." Morden laughed as his eyes turned from coal black to a menacing flame red, as if something had ignited them, something to light the wick, to start the never ending chaos that's was to begin, A new beginning of utter chaos of a large proportion . Morden laughed, as evil reeked from his breath and swirled thickly around the knights in the room, moving slowly passing through the air making everyone's hair stand on end.

"It will be done, as on your command sire." The knight swallowed hard, staggering each word as pure fear engulfed him.

Morden released the knight from his grasp, as the knight staggered in an effort to run away, trying to forget what happened, trying to forget the feeling of fear that had over came him. As he left the room Morden smiled evilly as his eyes grew wider with cruel delight, this had happened for just a second, and then he resumed his usual pacing of the room.

"Scribe." He announced. "see to it that the wretched, gasp of air , prince Cibor is dealt with cruelly with, just like his father, but more worse, he is to be tortured severely, and to be hanged, but not for so long, just so the "precious prince" is nearly dead, and then he is to be quartered.

"yes sire" the scribe said not keeping eye contact, as if he were to just look at Morden he would be dealt cruelly upon.

Morden growled deeply just to make the knights and their armour shiver, and the he smiled.

"my dear knights, I hope that u will understand, that if any of you disobey me you will be dealt more cruelly with than this here prince, even though I despise him the most." Morden had glared as the fire in his eyes sparkled died down reluctantly.

The knights nodded as they carried the prince of the throne, his head propelled in all directions as his body swayed back and forth. As the knights carried the prince out of the room, the maiden shoved herself out of sight, behind one of the pale white pillars.

The knights carried the prince at least a quarter of the way down the grey never ending corridor and release him onto multiple ancient cleaning equipments along with old, dusty and broken wooden buckets. At this precise moment, the maiden pitied him; he had no one of his own, all by himself in this castle where the so called "sire" despised him and want to kill him.

The maiden went towards the old buckets and supplies and grasped the princes arm are lifted him off the pile and carried him away from the buckets.

Rescuing the prince was not that hard, all the knights had gone to gamble; the scribe left to his village and the "sire" Morden was nowhere to be seen.

The maiden shifted along with the prince until they reached outside the castle and the maiden trudged across the dirt path and off into the distance.


End file.
